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Gorou’s by the reflectors when Kazuha finds him, sitting in the same lawn chair Kazuha met him in. He’s got a beer in one hand and waves wildly when he sees Kazuha come his way.
“Not racing today?” Kazuha asks, pointing at the beer.
“Not racing today.” Gorou repeats. “Fuck lottery night. I’m just here for the show.”
“You’re still convinced they rig it somehow, right?”
“You can’t pit me against Itto two nights in a row without me getting suspicious.” Gorou points to his beer and says, “If you win your race tonight, you can have as many as you feel like.”
“I won’t lose.” Kazuha tells him, before quickly scanning the crowd to gauge the turnout. Lottery nights always draw in more people, so much so that tonight he has a hard time picking the racers out from the spectators.
“Well, you have been on a hot streak. How many in a row is it now after last week, excluding bracket races?”
“Going on seven.”
“Damn.” Gorou says, before sipping his drink. “If you manage to lose, whoever bets against you is going to have one hell of a payday.”
Kazuha kicks him in the leg. “You’re not going to bet against a friend, are you?”
“You’re making me want to.” Gorou snorts and kicks him back. “No, I’m not, so you better win.”
“Who do you think I’d lose to today, anyways?”
“Itto?” Gorou offers and Kazuha scoffs, though he can’t keep the smile off his face.
“Just because you lost to him doesn’t mean I will.”
“You know where to hit people where it hurts, don’t you?” Gorou retorts, and then leans back, thinking.
“Heizou,” He says, finally.
Kazuha tilts his head and blinks at him.
“Heizou. Got in through qualifiers, must be new in town.”
“Damn. I mean, no one who's entered through qualifiers has won for a long time.”
Gorou laughs and nudges him. “Not since you, huh? And how old were you again, seventeen and lying about it?”
Kazuha glares at him. “I’d have been eighteen in six months.”
“I remember you were driving an unmodded toyota suv. Think you made enough that night to put down a mortgage.”
“I made about a fifth of what I’d end up putting into my camry.”
Gorou shrugs and points to a figure in a black hoodie standing near a neon green honda civic. “If he wins, it could end up being a similar story for him.”
Kazuha squints through the dim light at the man who must have been Heizou.
“It sounds like you don’t have any faith in me.”
Gorou claps him on the back and rolls his eyes. “Faith is for catholics. I know you’re going to win.”
“Hell yeah you know it.” Kazuha says, before giving Gorou a half serious salute and wandering off again to find a place to watch the first draw.
This is their usual meet spot, a stretch of rural road without potholes, far enough from any house to avoid noise complaints, and out of the way of the known cruiser routes. Near the finish line intersection are two booths, one selling alcohol and god knows what else, and another taking bets. Kazuha had never bet on lottery nights, there was always too much of an unpredictability factor to them, but there was a lot of money you could make if you know your racers well enough.
As people gather around for the first draw, Kazuha catches the gaze of Heizou, leaning against a tall bale of hay. Watching him a few meters back from the crowd and staring at the start line reminds Kazuha of his first race. Of course, if what Gorou said about his performance in qualifiers was true, there was no way he’d never done this before, but all the new people must be a little intimidating. Without giving it any more thought, he walks over and gives him a friendly wave.
“Hey, I heard you’re new in town!” Kazuha says as he reaches him, extending a hand, “I’m Kazuha.”
Heizou takes it, his grip strong and warm. “Heizou. Nice to meet you.”
Over at the commentators booth, there’s an eruption of noise as the first match up gets drawn out of a hat. Kazuha tilts his head over.
“You’re not going to bet?”
Heizou laughs, a quiet noise he quickly stifles. “Only if I wanted to lose money. I don’t know the racers or their cars well enough yet.”
“Fair enough.”
The two racers step out of the crowd and get into their cars, driving them to the intersection that would also be the finish line. Tonight wasn’t your usual drag race, instead the track would be a square made of three right turns, eventually leading you back to the same spot as you began to finish.
“What do you know about those two?” Heizou asks as he points to the two cars lined up at the intersection, waiting for the light.
“That’s Ayato, and…” Kazuha squints in the dim light to make out the other car at this distance, “Shinobu.”
“Are you gonna bet?”
“Nah, lottery nights are too much of a gamble. But if I had to go with someone, it’d be Shinobu.”
Heizou hums, like he’s filling away that information, before asking, “Why’s that?”
“Stats wise, she’s got a better record. She’s quick on her turns and she’s been racing for longer.” Kazuha leans back against the haystack and feels the rough texture through his jacket. “Ayato has a nicer ride, though. That thing’s engine might cost more than my entire car.”
“Rich boy, huh?” Heizou asks, and Kazuha shrugs.
“Probably.”
Before either of them can say anything else, the light turns green and both the engines both spring to life, growling as they push off the starting line. A cloud of dust settles behind them as their tail lights disappear into the night. In about five minutes, they’d both be back where they began.
Kazuha glances away from the crowd and back at Heizou, his messy hair and the way he keeps drumming his fingers against his leg.
“Nervous?”
“Antsy.” Heizou says instead, and shoves his fidgeting hand into his hoodie pocket. “I’ve been moving, so it’s been about two months since I’ve raced. Missed it a little.”
“I always miss it more than I think I will when I take a break.”
“Mhm.” Heizou kicks his heel into the coarse grass and frowns before saying, “I know one day I’ll grow out of this, but I can’t really imagine it. Not now, at least.”
“There’s nothing like it.” Kazuha agrees.
They stand together in silence until they hear the low rumble of the racers engines again and, to Kazuha’s surprise, Ayato is a good ten meters in front of Shinobu. The shouting of the crowd is deafening by the time Ayato’s car streaks across the finish line, nothing more than a blur of white and blue.
“What an upset.” Kazuha comments, “This is why I don’t bet on lottery nights.”
“Hm.” Heizou hums, watching the winners collect their money from the pot. “We never used to do these. I can see why they’re exciting, though.”
“Draws a crowd.” Kazuha agrees. “Though some racers don’t like doing them.”
“Hey!” A familiar voice calls at him from the distance, and Kazuha straightens up when he sees Yoimiya running over to him. “There you are, you just got pulled.”
The low excitement that’s been humming all evening spikes as he walks over to Yoimiya.
“Oh? Who am I up against?” He asks.
Yoimiya shrugs. “Heizou. I’m trying to find him too.”
“Right here.” Heizou says, before getting up from the hay as well. He shoots a grin at Kazuha, one that makes his stomach flutter with anticipation. “Ready to lose?”
“You should get ready to eat those words.” Kazuha counters, already falling into the easy routine of pre-race shit talk.
“Don’t worry, if you lose I’ve already got you a consolation prize in mind.” Heizou says, and with a backhanded wave he leaves them and heads for his car.
“You two know each other?” Yoimiya turns to him and asks, and Kazuha laughs.
The rush of adrenaline makes his hands cold as Kazuha settles into his Toyota Camry at the starting line, his car’s engine purring in idle. It doesn’t matter how many times he does this, how fucked the match it, how terrible the week leading up is, he knows the feeling won’t fade until he’s past the finish line. Here, behind a steel monster that’ll do anything he wants if he just coaxes it the right way, he gets to feel invincible for just five minutes.
Kazuha stares at the light, his palm light on the clutch, and tries to relax his breathing. Somewhere along the years he’s become better at managing his nerves, he’s been here before many times, but there’s a rush that never fades.
He glances over at Heizou, even though he shouldn’t take his eyes off the red, even though he can barely make him out in this light. He’s got a pair of headphones on, and somehow, like he can feel Kazuha’s gaze, he turns and meets his eyes. Then his face breaks out into a grin and he gives him a thumbs up.
It seems like not a second after he glances back, the light flicks to green and he falls into the familiar motion of dropping his car into gear and easing his pedal to the floor.
Everyone ends up here with a different story, for a different reason, but this feeling is something they all get, the feeling of being crushed into your seat, the G-force pulling the blood down to your feet. Your breath, hot and deafened by the sound of your engine as it becomes a creature of its own, one you always feel just barely in control of. The lines of the road, the countryside, the night sky all a blur past like if you’d just drive fast enough you’d break out of reality.
The first thing Kazuha realizes on the first stretch is that Heizou is good at shifting gears, gaining just a little every time they do. Kazuha takes a deep breath as he tries to narrow in on the feeling of the torque curve, internalizing the moment he needs to shift before he does. This time, he feels him pulling ahead of Heizou, right as the first turn comes into view.
Kazuha takes it fast, as reckless as he can spare, the familiar, bright sound of tire screech filling the air. When his eyes flick to the rearview, he finds Heizou a car length behind him. Kazuha doesn’t let him take back any more space until the second turn, where he eases his speed down just a little too early, letting Heizou pull nearly all the way up to him. His wheel is slick with sweat, and by the time they’re flying to the last stretch, he feels a familiar tremble in them too. He hasn’t had a race this close in months.
As the last turn approaches, Heizou slows before him to take it, and just when Kazuha’s ready to let go of his breath, the second Kazuha eases his foot off the gas, Heizou bolts ahead of him. His car shoots in front of him, and Kazuha can feel the cry of Heizou’s engine in his whole body. Something like frustration and excitement mixes up and he yells a hey that scratches the back of his throat, a scream that he knows is going to get drowned out anyways. Heizou takes the corner faster than he’s seen any sane person do, and by then he knows the race is over.
Kazuha seems to fall out of his car in a daze, but Heizou slings an arm around his shoulder and beams at him. Their faces are close, and Kazuha can feel the rhythm of his heart from where their sides are pressed against each other. They make their way out of the crowd, people giving him condolences and pats on the back, and back to a quiet spot.
“You’re crazy.” Kazuha breathes, and Heizou laughs, something more wild than before, like the race shook off some of his nerves.
“I think that’s a prerequisite for being here.”
“You’re a little shit for faking me out like that, you know?” Kazuha taunts, and elbows him lightly in the shoulder. “I took that corner slower than I should have because of that. Shouldn’t have slowed down.”
“Thought maybe there'd be a fifty fifty that you’d fall for it.” Heizou sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. Then he looks up and looks at Kazuha for a second, like he’s studying him under the moonlight. “It does suck that I don’t really know anyone yet, though. Don’t really have anyone to celebrate with.”
“Hm.” Kazuha hums. He grabs his phone and checks the time, two am. Then considers what he’s about to say next carefully. “You’re not planning on betting tonight, right?”
“Nope.” Heizou says, popping the p.
Kazuha glances over at him and finds Heizou staring back. He feels a similar flutter of electricity run through his body.
“You did say something about a consolation prize earlier, didn’t you?” Kazuha asks, and Heizou laughs, bright enough that it eases the sting of the loss just a little.
“You know, I was hoping you’d pick up on it.” Heizou steps over so that they’re facing each other, reaching a hand out to place on the back of his neck. “I was planning to buy you food if you didn’t, but I’m glad you did,” Heizou says, close enough that he can feel his breath hot against his mouth.
Heizou leans in and Kazuha lets his eyes flutter shut. The lingering adrenaline from the race and the new fizzing excitement in his gut all mix together as they meet, with Kazuha’s own hand feeling over each of Heizou’s ribs as he slides it under his shirt. Heizou’s mouth tastes like orange gum and the same cigarette smoke that lingers on all of Kazuha’s clothes, and something about the familiarity of it makes him melt a little. There’s not a lot of sweetness to the kiss, both of them still a little wild eyed and high from their race, though there isn’t a world where Kazuha would mind.
“Shit.” Kazuha mumbles as they break apart, “You wanna get out of here?”
“I’ve got roommates.”
“Me too, but he’s out at his girlfriend’s tonight. Here, I’ll put in my address.” Kazuha says, pointing to his phone.
After some awkward shuffling, Kazuha puts his address into google maps with still slightly trembling fingers, and Heizou presses a kiss into his jaw before they head back to their cars. Kazuha hopes that he can think of a good enough excuse for Gorou tomorrow morning when he inevitably puts two and two together and calls.
The drive back to the city is quiet, nothing but low road noise. Kazuha guesses that Heizou is one of those people that like to soundtrack their drives, races or not, but Kazuha’s always loved just this, the endless highway at night, the quiet hum of his car and the clicking of his blinker. He finds himself smiling when he glances at his rearview and sees the bright green car following.
They run as quietly as they can up the apartment stairs before Kazuha’s fumbling with his keys. Finally, the door clicks open and Kazuha flicks a switch to flood the dark room with light. As they take off their shoes, Kazuha gets the first good look at Heizou under bright lights, and only when Heizou tugs on his arm does he realize he’s staring.
“You gonna invite me in or should I do that myself?” Heizou asks, and Kazuha mentally shakes himself and walks over to his bedroom.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.” Kazuha says, which is also true. Kazuha kicks some of the laundry on the floor into the corner, not the greatest look he supposes but either Heizou doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Then he flops onto the bed and sighs as he sinks into it, the weight of the week suddenly bearing on top of him.
Heizou seems to sense it, because when he climbs over him and moves some hair out of his eyes, his gaze is soft.
“Hey, if you’re tired I can leave. It’s chill.”
“No,” Kazuha decides as he reaches up and pulls Heizou into a kiss, something gentler than before. “I’m fine, don’t leave.” He pauses for a moment, thumbing a line across Heizou’s cheek, his heart skipping at how warm he is under his fingers. “Just take it slow.”
“Okay.” Heizou smiles and kisses him again, his other hand roaming down to his waistband.
Gentle is never how these things go. Normally, on the occasional day where he finds himself in a stranger's bed or a stranger in his, there’s always a frantic energy to the air, like they’re being timed, or like desire's something that writhing under their skin, struggling to get out. Normally, someone’s getting pushed against the wall, or scratching their nails into skin, or has their hands tied to the headboard. He’s never done it sweet, but looking up at Heizou, his warm brown eyes and careful hands, he realizes he’s not scared.
Heizou pulls him out of his thoughts when he presses a palm into his jeans and makes him gasp. He chuckles, and kisses a line down his neck as he struggles with the zipper. With some kicking, Kazuha gets his pants off and shivers at the feeling of being watched. They’re mid kiss when Heizou slides a hand into his boxers, causing Kazuha to squeak a noise he’s less than proud of, and Heizou leans back and laughs.
“Good?” Heizou asks, and Kazuha hums his approval.
Kazuha lets his eyes fall shut as Heizou works him up, his arms breaking out in goosebumps as Heizou’s breath tickles his neck.
“Hey.” Heizou breathes, near his ear.
Kazuha’s eyes flutter open and he turns his head to look at him.
“Yeah?”
For the first time since they’ve stumbled home, Heizou almost looks nervous. Bashful, maybe.
“Can I suck you off?”
Kazuha chuckles, though he doesn’t mean to. Fuck, he’s cute. He feels his whole body run hot at the thought.
“Who would say no?” He mumbles, “Go ahead.”
After Heizou tugs off his underwear, Kazuha pulls at the hem of Heizou’s shirt and grins when he gives him a confused look.
“C’mon, I can’t be the only one with my clothes off here.” He says, before helping it over his head. Seeing that flush all the way down his front makes Kazuha’s stomach turn, and he runs a hand across the plane of his chest without really thinking. Heizou just huffs out a laugh, a little breathless, before scooting down the bed and nestling himself between Kazuha’s thighs.
“Pretty.” Heizou comments, before wrapping his hand around him again and making Kazuha’s hips buck. Kazuha tries to watch this time, though seeing himself get stroked slowly in that warm palm, seeing Heizou watch him with hungry eyes, it’s near overwhelming.
“Just,” Heizou says, his breath against his cock, “Wonder if you know how to use it.” Which is the thought he leaves Kazuha with as he sinks down, slowly working him on his mouth.
“Fuck.” Kazuha hisses, grabbing a fistful of bedsheets. He hadn't been thinking that far, not really worried about where they were taking this, but now that Heizou had put the thought in his head, shit. What isn’t helping either is Heizou’s warm mouth around him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard on the way up. He can’t get the thought out of his head, flipping them around so that Heizou’s on his back, the noises he’d make as he pushes in-- it makes him thrust up into Heizou’s mouth involuntarily. Then Heizou makes a soft gagging noise, which punches him back down to reality.
“Shit, sorry, are you alright?” Kazuha asks, and Heizou sits up and wipes the trail of saliva off his chin.
“Fine, it’s not my first time.”
“Thank god.” Kazuha sighs, before sitting up and pulling Heizou into a kiss, shivering when he tastes himself on his tongue. I’m already nervous enough as it is. “ Lie down, I’m gonna go get lube and a condom.” Kazuha tells him, before getting up on slightly unsteady legs. After rifling through his dresser for a bit, he tosses the items back on the bed, his stomach sinking at the sight of Heizou lying on his bed, propped up on his elbows and watching him.
Kazuha warms up the lube between fingers and Heizou watches as he slowly strokes himself with one hand, which makes Kazuha embarrassingly hard himself. Eventually, he pushes Heizou’s legs up and presses his index finger in, his breath quickening as he feels him tense and then relax around him, like he’s making a mental effort.
“There.” Kazuha mutters as he works him to the knuckle, pressing a kiss to his knee. “Relax, just like that.”
Heizou’s got two knuckles between his teeth, half muffling his soft exhales as Kazuha pushes a second finger in. When Heizou’s hand leaves his cock to grab onto the sheets, Kazuha takes over for him, savoring the quiet noise he makes when he first takes it into his hand. The feeling almost scares him, the intensity of it, the want to make Heizou feel good, to make him fall apart under him. He feels sixteen, doing this for the first time and watching with rapt attention in case it’s never this good again, in case this is his only chance. It’s exhilarating, his heart thrumming like he’s on the final stretch of highway with two hundred on the dash, like he’s overtaking first on a final lap of a circuit.
Heizou keens and makes a high pitched noise behind his hand when Kazuha finally finds his prostate, and he rubs small circles against it until Heizou grabs his wrist, hard.
“It’s alright, just,” he says, between pants, “a little too much.”
Kazuha just hums and moves away, instead pushing another finger in and works on stretching him out. Eventually, Heizou starts muttering something behind his hand that Kazuha can’t quite make out.
“What?” He asks, and Heizou moves his fist away and tucks his chin into his shoulder.
“Please-- fuck, I’m good, I’m ready, just get on with it.”
Kazuha chuckles and removes his hand.
“Here.” He says, and hands Heizou the condom wrapper. He can’t get over it, listening to him beg, watching him fumble with the foil and then rolling it over him so gently, like he’s afraid that Kazuha’s going to crumble like sugar if he doesn’t.
“C’mon.” Heizou says when he’s done, looking up at him with a smugness Kazuha already knows is half feigned. “I’ve already fucked you over once tonight, your turn.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Kazuha growls, and grabbing Heizou’s thighs and pulling him down the bed, that spark of frustration from his loss flaring back up again. It seems to be what Heizou wanted though, if the way he’s looking up at Kazuha is anything to go by.
He doesn’t break eye contact as he pushes in, some competitive stubbornness in him refusing to be the first one that does. As he bottoms out, he hears Heizou sigh, and feels him flutter around him. Kazuha runs a soothing hand over his stomach and groans when he feels Heizou’s heartbeat over his ribs. When it seems like he’s gotten comfortable, Kazuha starts moving in slow thrusts, watching the way Heizou’s eyes unfocus as he gets the angle just right.
“There you go,” Kazuha sooths as he wraps a hand around Heizou, “good boy.”
That earns Kazuha the first loud moan of the night, and it finally makes his eyes flutter shut at how overwhelming it is.
“God, that’s embarrassing.” Heizou makes out, letting out another strained breath.
“Got a thing for praise?” Kazuha asks, lifting Heizou’s hips up a bit to get a more comfortable angle.
“Didn’t think so before--” Heizou says, before he cuts himself off, “Shit, you might be convincing me though.”
“God.” Is all Kazuha can say. It’s hard to keep the rhythm of his hand and his hips in sync, all of it just barely on the good side of too much.
“Harder.” Heizou pleads, his voice close to a whine, and Kazuha answers by pulling almost all the way out and crashing back in.
“Yeah?” Kazuha asks, breathless, too close to finishing himself.
“Fuck, yeah, like that.” Heizou encourages, lifting his hand up so he can grip onto his arm. “Wanna feel it tomorrow.”
Kazuha bites the insides of his cheeks hard enough to taste blood as he puts all the energy he has left into rocking the headboard against the wall, the strain in his legs and the shallow pant of his breath compounding the feeling of how surrounded he feels in Heizou.
Heizou muffles a string of curse words into his shoulder as his hips stutter and he comes all over his stomach, his eyes pinched shut almost like it hurts. When his breathing calms down, Kazuha runs a finger over his forehead to smooth over the concentrated pinch in his brow.
“Tell me you're close.” Heizou groans, shifting a little. He must be oversensitive.
“Yeah, just,” Kazuha leans in and kisses him, pulling out to work himself to the finish line with his hand. Heizou whines softly at the loss, and the noise basically tips him over right there. “Fuck,” he breathes out, his whole body trembling with it as he comes.
Kazuha half collapses on top of Heizou as the aftershocks pulse through him, though Heizou doesn’t really seem to mind as he uses his free hand to play with Kazuha’s hair. Eventually, Kazuha rolls himself over and looks at Heizou, struggling to stay awake as he counts the gentle rise and fall of his chest. And it’s in that hazy space of his afterglow that Kazuha realizes he’s fucked, he likes this boy. When Heizou turns over and smiles at him, Kazuha pushes himself up on his elbows to kiss him again, tender, almost chaste, before leaning back and catching that syrupy tired look in his eyes.
“You’re not going to kick me out, right?” Heizou asks sleepily, but there’s an understanding in his voice, like he’d get it if Kazuha wanted his space to himself.
Kazuha sits back on his heels and stretches, savoring the crack of his shoulders.
“Only if you don’t shower.” He tells him, ruffling his sweaty hair, and Heizou’s smile relaxes.
“I can work with that.”
Later, in the dark of his room, tucked tight against Heizou’s chest, Kazuha stares at his old racing posters on his wall. He can just barely make them out from the streetlight filtering in through the window, and for a moment he feels like he’s in his childhood bedroom, unable to fall asleep after coming back from the track, still humming with adrenaline.
Everyone ends up here with a different story, for a different reason. Kazuha still remembers what racing on a circuit feels like, how different it feels when you’re a foot off the ground with a helmet on. What it felt like to be fifteen, to hold a brass trophy that’s heavier than it looks in your hand, to smile for the local press. In the space between awake and asleep, he used to stare at his Mercedes posters and wonder what it would be like to stand on top of an F1 car with your fist in the air. To stand above the world on a podium with champagne-sticky gloves, your fireproofs soaked in sweat.
He sighs as Heizou buries his head into his shoulder, lets his eyes flutter shut. There are a lot of ways your life can derail, way too many opportunities to lose your way. Getting kicked out at seventeen with only your mother’s old suv was the one he was most familiar with-- one that’s left him wondering what if over and over since.
As sleep eventually drags him under, he thinks that maybe this isn’t the worst way, in the end, if it’s led him here. For the first time, he’s got an answer to what if that won’t let him be, and it’s that he’d never have a chance at this.